Life is about survival of the fittest, and Jersey is producing the master race.

Valerie was crying, too. She was laughing and sniffling back sobs. “I’m going to marry my snuggy wuggums,” she said. Morelli paused, his fork halfway to the roast chicken platter. He slid his eyes to me and leaned close. “If you ever call me snuggy wuggums in public I’ll lock you in the cellar and chain you to the furnace.

[Ranger] "How's your mental health?" he asked. "I heard about Soder." [Stephanie] "I'm rattled." "I have a cure." Oh, boy. He put the truck in gear and headed for the exit. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "And that wasn't where I was going. I was going to suggest work." "I knew that." He looked over at me and grinned. "You want me bad." I did. God help me.

Ranger plays by his own set of rules, and I don't have a complete copy.

I like my nuts," Mooner said. "I don't want them cut off. I'd be, like, nutless then.

I really wouldn't classify the books as mysteries. I prefer to say that they're adventures.

How was your day?" Morelli asked me. "Oh, you know, the usual. Stole a truck. Blew up a building, and brought seven monkeys home with me.